


Last Patron

by Millennium_Fae



Series: Masked And Unmasked [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7046932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millennium_Fae/pseuds/Millennium_Fae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teldryn's last client embodied everything brutish and crude, and it seemed only fitting that such a spark be snuffed out so prematurely, and so suddenly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Patron

“I see him.”

Heindrick, burly Nord he was, had eyes that rivaled the sharpest Valenwood hunter. He couldn’t see the bandit from where they stood amongst the forest shade, but he recognized the distant, trailing dust cloud of a man on the run. In the midday light, the bandit had left behind an obvious trail.

Heindrick shouldered his massive battleaxe onto his back holster, which was the only article of clothing he wore, aside from a threadbare fur skirt and a pair of hide boots; Heindrick was the very image of a Nord barbarian, complete with swirling blue tattoos on either side of his cheeks. He was the very composite image from his sullen Dunmer companion, who was clothed head-to-foot in chitin armor.

He turned to said Dunmer, and said with relish, “He shouldn’t be more than a league ahead of us. We can catch up to him in a few hours.”

Teldryn Sero scoffed from where he sat. “A few hours? You must be mad.” Heindrick hopped from the forest cliff and merrily slid his way down the grassy slope to the dirt road below. Teldryn rose to his feet with much less enthusiasm, and reluctantly ran down to meet him.

“Chin up, elf! Don’t tell me you’ve got cold feet now!”

“He’s on horseback, we’re on foot! We’ll never catch up to him, unless he stops in his tracks!” Teldryn shouted over the rustle of branches.

Heindrick only gave a sharp grin. “Then we’ll run until he stops, and chop his head off! Simple enough, don’t know what you’re bellyaching about!”

Hidden under his helmet, Teldryn rolled his eyes. He saved a biting remark in favor of keeping his breath steady as he tried to keep in pace with Heindrick’s athleticism. Teldryn was by no means a weak man, but Heindrick had the energy fit for a battalion. He could scale a mountain in one morning, and wrestle down a 15-hand buck for dinner the same night. And be fit for more.

Teldryn, on the other hand, had the stamina of a nomad. He was built for endurance - traveling across entire countries with no respite, going days without food, and other skills useful to a traveling mercenary for hire. In his line of work, client stream was unreliable, and therefore his income. Teldryn quickly learned how to ration himself out, due to necessity. 

But Heindrick lived for the day. Teldryn knew Heindrick to be the type of person who did not ponder the horizon, because it just as likely might never come. Heindrick dove into every battle like it was his last, because for all Hendrick knew, it likely would be.

Teldryn couldn’t understand that kind of thinking. It was very un-Dunmer-like, to be so impulsive and whimsical. There may be glory in those spontaneous, instantaneous victories, but fortitude was installed deep within Dunmer blood. Fortitude against misfortune. Endurance with a quiet fury. The Nords seek every ember and make it a bonfire.

Heindrick especially seemed a dangerous man, even to other Nords. Just a fortnight ago, Hendrick and Teldryn had shared a drink of mead (disgusting stuff, syrupy to a sickening fault) at a cozy Whiterun pub. Heindrick had convinced him out, on account of how Teldryn apparently “needed to be dragged out of one of his moods, before he brought the whole house down with him”. Teldryn was in fact in bad spirits, but it was due to an unexpected homesickness. Something that he’d never admit to anyone.

Being the only Mainlander Dunmer in sight made him inexplicably lonely. Whenever he took a breath, he smelled crisp apples and pine wood instead of sulfur tar and savory spice. When he looked upon the horizon, he saw blue skies instead of a somber yellow dredge. The locals were tall, pale-skinned, and every little nuance was like a constant reminder that _this was not home._  Teldryn's home laid several hundred miles away.

The pain had seemed so childish and irrelevant. So Teldryn kept it all hidden, but apparently Heindrick’s sharp eyes aren’t just for scouting out elusive bandits. So the burly Nord had convinced the surly Dunmer into a drink of mead, and a dinner of beef, potatoes, and apple dumplings.

Teldryn almost felt foolish as he ate next to this loud lump of a Nord, the only dark figure in a sea of snow-men. But a quick glance around the pub proved that the novelty of a foreigner was short-lived, and that he wasn’t the only outsider - or Mer, for that matter - dining that evening. Teldryn even briefly pondered whether Heindrick intentionally chose this local on basis of the diversity, just for Teldryn’s sake, but he quickly quelled that thought.

And so it went that Heindrick and Teldryn had a decent time of themselves that evening. Heindrick drank and yelled, like he’s wont to, and Teldryn let himself open up. Just the tiniest bit. 

It wasn’t in his nature to be inviting, or outwardly sociable, but Heindrick had successfully cracked open Teldryn’s exterior, if just a sliver. 

Something very few people have ever done.

Teldryn had mostly watched as Heindrick ribbed and cajoled at everyone he saw. The barmaid earned a risqué joke, which she simply scoffed at, while sitting passerby had their armor and weapons spontaneously critiqued for their poor craftsmanship. Heindrick danced upon everyone’s nerves, but magically never managed to slip off the edge and truly upset anyone. The people seemed to take Heindrick for what he was; loud, obnoxious, but with a kind of rustic charm about him.

To Teldryn, Heindrick was the picture of a typical Nord ass. And perhaps it was the mead, but after that night, he grew to enjoy it.

—

The moon was high when Heindrick finally stopped in his tracks. Teldryn collapsed onto his knees seconds after. Heindrick had led the two of them through the green of south Skyrim, and all the way north until The Throat Of The World stood at their heels. Heindrick eyed the dead horse that lay at the foot of a dense forest reach; the bandit had run it to exhaustion, and abandoned it.

Teldryn used the cloth of his helmet to wipe at his dripping brow. “Heindrick,” he sighed.

Heindrick paid him no mind. He bent down upon the forest edge, studying how a pair of footsteps trailing from the dead horse disappeared once touching the trees.

He stood up and unsheathed his axe. “The lout’s stepping on the tree roots to hide his tracks.” And with a practiced swipe, Heindrick chopped off a collection of offending branches, clearing a path through the dense foliage. 

Heindrick jerked his head towards the makeshift opening. “Come on,” he commanded. Teldryn gave a hearty sigh, but followed regardless. So long as he doesn’t have to start clearing away the trees as well, he supposed.

The two continued for a good while, Heindrick chopping away at the trees while Teldryn trailed quietly behind. Morning began to dawn, and Teldryn's eyes began to ache from tiredness. But never once did Hendrick hesitate, the beast he was.

Only when one more swipe revealed a hilly, bare expanse that stretched for miles in every direction did Heindrick finally let up. Heindrick stared in dull disbelief at the bare ground, the blank horizon. There were no footsteps, no obvious cloud of kicked dust. 

"There's no knowing where he buggered off to, now," Teldryn voiced pragmatically. 

Heindrick's face twisted from shock into rage. "Gods damn it!" he bellowed, slamming his axe blade-first into a nearby tree trunk. He spun around to Teldryn with an accusatory finger. "You should have pincushioned with arrows the moment he tried to escape!"

"My quiver was empty from dealing with the other bandits!" Teldryn retorted, his hands spread apart in a wide gesture. "I can't do everything for you!"

"You're useless, elf! I should have left you back at Roikstead, and made you walk back to Morrowind in the snow!" Heindrick yelled. And with that, Teldryn turned on his heel and headed down to the valley below, away from the heat of Heindrick's tantrum.

"Brute," was Teldryn's only response.

With a great huff, Heindrick slammed himself down onto the grass in a petulance. For a few moments, he remained still in his rage, but after a few seconds he suddenly realized that Teldryn had at some point escaped from his gaze and was nowhere to be found.

Heindrick stood up again. "Teldryn?" he asked in a much quieter, softer voice.

He scanned the valley again, and spotted a small farm out of the corner of his eye; two figures stood gesturing passionately to a short, dark figure dressed in chitin armor.

Heindrick quickly approached the farm, and saw to his relief Teldryn speaking to a man and his apparent wife - a womer! - about a sudden bandit that had hopped onto the couple's only drawhorse, and took off like the wind.

"He just jumped the fence and took the reigns without a word! Please help us get her back, we can't afford to loose that steed." The man pleaded Teldryn.

And the womer nodded, her bright gold eyes flickering along with the movement. "We will pay you generously for your efforts."

"Understood," Heindrick heard Teldryn respond. He approached Teldryn with purposeful steps, and at the sound of his heavy footsteps, Teldryn turned and said, "We got him."

Heindrick's face split into one of his sharp grins. "You magnificent elf!" and without a moment of warning, swooped Teldryn within his massive arms, burying Teldryn's face into his chest. Teldryn grunted a " _Mmmfh!_ " in surprise.

"We'll get your steed back, and the head of that bandit along with it!" Heindrick shouted triumphantly at the grinning couple. Teldryn pushed Heindrick away with a forced mutter of "for Azura's sakes, man!". The elf was mighty grateful for his helmet hiding the heat that was surely tinting his ears and neck deep red.

Heindrick quickly spotted the fresh trail of horse hooves dotting from the pen and into the distance. The chase was back on.

\---

Just a couple of miles away, said offending bandit bounced hurriedly on his stolen horse. He chanced a glance back, and to his immense frustration, saw the pinprick silhouettes of two figures in the far distance. 

"Divines, those two're still on my trail? They've been at it for days!" He growled to himself.

To his immense relief, one turn revealed the tall, wooden gate of a known encampment. He pulled on the reigns, and shouted up, "It's me, Vincent! Open the sodding gates!"

A bewildered man revealed himself from his perch. "Vincent? Aren't you supposed to be with Keara up at White River Camp?"

"We were waylaid by some crazed Nord and an elf covered head to foot! The others' fell! I'm ... I'm the only one left!" Vincent shouted back.

"What?! Are you mad? You can't just bring your problems down upon us! We've got our own problems to-"

"Wait!" Another watchguard silenced the gatekeeper, "I think I see them."

The three bandits turned to eye the distance, where just barely visible amongst the tall grass were the spying eyes of a man and an elf. The man remained still, while the elf slowly released his sweating head from his helmet. Teldryn and Heindrick stared in disbelief at the massive encampment that stood before them.

The ringing of a bell shattered the tense silence, followed by the loud creaking of the massive wooden gate slowly opening, which was accompanied by the excited shouts of what must have been a hundred strong people. The air was filled with the sound of running footsteps, panicked voices, and a bong, bong, bong of the warning bell.

"Get in, get in!" One of the guards shouted at Vincent, who quickly slipped in, horse and all. "We'll deal with them."

\---

Teldryn and Heindrick continued to stare at the battalion perched before them.

"They see us," Teldryn said.

Heindrick remained silent.

With a quiet rustle, Heindrick stood to his feet. Teldryn turned to him, and watched the midday sun dance off his golden braids.

"Don't do this. You'll never get out of there alive." Teldryn said sternly. Heindrick was still.

Teldryn turned back to the encampment. It was massive; almost the size of an entire town of itself, completely walled by wooden battlements and dotted with multiple makeshift towers and guardposts. A pillaring tower of smoke rose steadily from within its center. Voices still rang in the din.

"They must be over a hundred men strong. There's no telling what you'll find in there. Heindrick," Teldryn let his voice briefly betray him, and let the tiniest hint of pleading into his tone. "If you go in there, I'm not coming with you."

And with that, Heindrick turned to meet Teldryn's eyes, who squinted in the bright sun, but briefly saw the shine of a tell-tale glint of sharp teeth. 

He knew instantly what came next, but was too late to stop it.

"You know I never listen to you, Teldryn." Heindrick replied in a steady tone, before sprinting off.

Teldryn gasped in shock. "Heindrick!" He shouted after him.

And suddenly Teldryn was blinded by a fuzz of soft, golden hair in his eyes, his face tingled with the brush of warm skin, and on his mouth the taste of chapped lips and the scruff of beard.

The jingle of coins pressed haphazardly into his hand was the last thing Teldryn registered before Heindrick rushed off again, Teldryn completely overtaken to react.

He eventually gathered enough of himself to finally spring to his feet, and watched as the receding back of of patron disappear behind the wooden gates. 

Teldryn remained rooted to the spot even as the clanging of distant blades began to taper off. He remained still even as the gates opened again, as silence overtook the air again, and a white mare stepped gracefully from the entrance and towards him.

In the privacy of only a gentle horse for company, Teldryn let his eyes well up with unshed tears. He buried his face into the warm crook of her strong neck. She breathed slowly, seemingly aware of his pain, and Teldryn willed his own breath to match hers.

Eventually, he straightened up, one hand absently stroking the horse's course mane, the motion a comfort to his frazzled nerves. Then Teldryn mounted the horse, and with one last look at the now silent encampment, put his helmet back on, and nudged the horse into a steady pace in the opposite direction.

\---

The moon was once again high in the night sky when Teldryn returned to the farm. Only the wife stood outside, a small smile on her face as Teldryn approached and dismounted, one hand gripping the horse's reigns as he relinquished the mare back to her owners. 

"Thank you," she said in her mellow, elven voice.

Wordlessly Teldryn accepted the pouch of gold. He packed it adjacent to the much fatter pouch that would be Teldryn's only remaining memory of Heindrick.

The two elves shared a quiet glance between each other. Her smile never faded, but Teldryn wagered he saw the tiniest hint of sympathetic pain in her golden gaze. Something akin to unspoken comprehension of an event that she would have no way of knowing, but suspected regardless.

The unabashed kindness almost broke Teldryn more readily than the loss of Heindrick - sympathy for something that he could have gotten, but was too cowardly to pursue. So Teldryn tore himself away, and with heavy steps began his journey into the night. The clink of a door told Teldryn that the elven woman had went back inside to her human husband.

It was several weeks of a somber daze spent in the cold of Skyrim, then the churning waters of the Sea Of Ghosts, and finally to the ashlands of the island of Solstheim, where Teldryn sat, again alone. 

One day, he heard a new pair of footsteps approaching him, and he readily announced his services with his typical swagger; "Teldryn Sero, spellsword for hire. If you've got the coin, I'm at your service."

And the cheery jingle of a coin pouch spelled promise as much as it did an end.

**Author's Note:**

> I might write more about Teldryn in the future. I'm very into his more domestic side, to be honest. Aww, little Dunmer baby likes how peaceful Riverwood is, and could see himself settling down there! 
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave a comment, if you like this little snippet!


End file.
